Rust and Blood
by Lt.Gungirl
Summary: AU! Revamped the dear old Inspector and finally found a serious version I like. Should be very gritty and Noir-esc, with urban fantasy/sci-fi to it. Also I am warning you that this gets rather off cannon. Dark, depressive, NO NAVAL GAZING. Revenge and blood. With a way cooler version of Claw as well. I was happy with how he turned out.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author here. THIS IS AN EXPERIMENT. Writing a serious Inspector Gadget-I owe a great deal of rekindling my fanficcing this cartoon to the fake trailer on youtube. Look it up, it looks totally amazing and I wish it were so. That's a remake I'd be willing to watch. Anywho this story is a noir/urban fantasy sort of thing. I want you to let me know what you think of the elements I use from the cartoon-I will only go off cartoon(the firt film was alright don't get me started on the second). I am majorly adding crap to this, and yes I am doing something unthinkable. You'll see soon. **_

_**Any suggestions or feedback is always appreciated and treated with respect. **_

He stood alone with no sign of moving. The dark alley swallowed him up so that the sickly glow of a waning light bulb just touched the brim of his hat. The shadows congealed under this blocking his face and body from view. He could have been mistaken for a shadow, except for the fact that a tiny pinprick of green light just barely escaped from the right side of his face.

This man was still as a statue, not even shifting his weight. Though it was impossible to make out his silhouette he stood with his feet planted firmly on the cracked cement. Crumbling brick walls flanked him, the one on his right holding the single point of light on this end of the street. A cinderblock wall blocked the alley behind him and a pair of metal trashcans stood silently against it. Graffiti shone in the baleful light as sinister looking letters threatening whoever did not fear the street gang that put them there.

A pungent mixture of decay, filth, and cigarette smoke wafted on the midnight breeze. There were traces of other smells too. Scents that didn't belong in the night air like that of passionate love making or alcohol laced bile.

A shadow passed by him and into the measly light. It was a grey rat mangy and covered in fleas it scratched at as it stared at the almost imperceptible point of green. Before the rat knew that it was staring at another living object a quiet swish cut through the darkness and a millisecond later the rat's head rolled into the shadows dropping a bloody trail as it went.

The man remained where he stood not even staring at the decapitated rodent. A nearby fly probably busy around the trash approached the newly dead creature eagerly. Perhaps intent on laying several dozen eggs in the soon to rot flesh.

A truck passed by the alley causing the pooled water to rise up in a wave that splashed just centimeters from the man's feet.

The neon sign of a bar across the street flickered and buzzed. _Dolly's_ in pink neon flashed to an outline of a pin up girl and back to the name again. Next to it was a sleazy little convenience store. Most likely the store made it's profits off of the nude bar's patrons who managed to get one of the dancer's attention.

Music wafted from the building despite all the windows and doors being closed. The music was as catty as the girls who worked inside. Every now and again a man would slink up to the place his coat hiding his face as he was allowed in by the bouncer.

The bouncer was a demon of a woman with buzz cut black hair and a sharp pinched nose wearing black cargo pants and a tank top. There was obvious traces of Austrian heritage and it came out in her height and build. At six and a half feet tall she towered over most patrons and her broad shoulders easily blocked the doorway. She was fit and her muscles taught, though she could have easily slipped into a leather cat suit and entertained the men.

There was no one else outside. Just these two complete strangers. She glanced over at the alley as if she felt his eyes on her but saw nothing other than the usual alley shadows. He stared back at her evenly unafraid of her imposing figure.

The door opened suddenly and a man in a wide brimmed black hat slipped onto the street. He walked purposefully uninhibited by a drop of alcohol. His steps echoed into the night as he made his way down the street. He kept a scarlet scarf wrapped around his nose and mouth tightly. He wore a black double breasted suit with crimson pinstripes. Silver buttons reflected the meager light and his gloved hands swung at his sides. He looked nothing like the usual customers, no dirt or poverty about him.

The man in the alley stepped into the light so smoothly the bouncer stared in disbelief. But she made no other reaction, her job was to guard the door. He walked after the black clad man with brisk quiet steps. He no longer merged with the shadows his tan trench coat and brown fedora now visible. He wore black slacks and a sapphire tie. Black dress shoes gently touched the damp asphalt without much noise. His face was still covered in shadow though, and the green point of light now gone.

In moments he caught up to the man from the bar. His pocketed hands suddenly flashing out there was a hissing sound and the man in black found himself falling to the street entangled in some kind of steel cord. Instead of a gasp there was a chuckle, as the man broke free of the metal bonds and spun to face his assailant.

The two men looked each other over. "You still trying to stop me?" The one in black asked. His voice was a smooth rich tenor with just a touch of derision. He spoke through the scarf though it didn't seem to muffle his words.

"You know I have to," the other replied his voice softer with no melodic twinge as he spoke in complete seriousness.

"My my, when will you ever learn dear brother." The voice changed to amused condescension.

"I'm not your brother." The quieter man replied. He had no time for these immature games.

"Yes I know, you just can't stand such a despicable thought. But you know Trent, times running out. I'm not a patient man." The suave voice grew tense.

"But I am." Trent replied. "And even if you run tonight, you'll still have to watch your back. I've learned a few things since the last time we met."

"You sound so heroic. How did they manage to fit all that altruism inside of you? Replace your heart with it?" Sarcasm dripped from his every word.

Trent's face was hidden in the shadow of his hat but he spoke with a tight voice. "Maybe." Trent's hand flashed from his side and swung his fingers balled into a tight fist. The other man made no move to dodge or block the blow. He took it square on the jaw and though his head snapped back he remained upright.

"You know that doesn't work on me," and this time the man's words were sincere, no mocking, no games. For a brief second he seemed to consider leaving Trent alone.

"Yeah Cranston, I do." Trent replied hoarsely. This time Cranston's hands moved like a blur and Trent let him get close enough to grab his throat. Cranston gave a mighty squeeze cutting off oxygen. "I can still breath ya know." Trent whispered.

Cranston sighed. "I thought I'd try for old times sake." He released the man's throat with a shrug and turned away. In the last second he spun to face Trent a massive steel and iron claw in place of his right hand. It closed with a sickening clank. Five mechanical fingers each fitted with a bladelike claw. "And I just had this suit fixed. You owe me Trent."

"The only thing I owe you is sending you to hell where you belong." Trent spat in reply. He quick stepped back pulling a gun from his coat. It was long and black with a glowing blue chamber behind the muzzle. "Go ahead Tex, make my day." Trent growled.

"My pleasure." Tex Cranston charged forward his mechanical claw swiping towards his enemy's face. Trent blocked the blow with his left arm and fired his gun for Cranston. A blast of sizzling blue energy was discharged from the muzzle and hit Tex in the chest. The man staggered back for a moment. Trent aimed his gun for the head while Tex fought the sudden shock. This second shot was dodged though just in time and the projectile exploded in a shower of sparks against a concrete wall illuminating the two combatants briefly.

Cranston grinned. "You never were fast enough to stop me Trent."

"I'm not done yet." Trent assured dropping the gun to the ground and jumping into the air. He launched from the blacktop five, ten, twelve feet before arcing back towards his nemesis. From under his hand a metal tube protruded from his wrist, he whispered something and an inky black substance rained down on Cranston.

The other man spluttered as he wiped the thick oily liquid from his face in annoyance. He tore his now stained scarf from his face but the black goo still concealed much of his features. "You'll pay for that one Gadget." Cranston's voice grew furious.

"I think not." Trent replied ignoring the nickname. He had landed beside Tex one hand keeping his hat firmly on his head and now kicked Tex in the gut while he was trying to clear his vision. The man fell in a shadowy black heap against the curb.

Trent walked over ready to cuff his defeated foe, but something struck him in the face lightening fast and sent him reeling. He stumbled backwards pain flaring in his cheek. Cranston laughed and brandished his claw the fingers dripping with crimson blood. Trent hissed and put a hand on his ravaged cheek to stop the bleeding. "Fool, you think I would let you win that easily?" Tex asked.

Trent glared between his fingers. "It's never that easy."

"That's right." His hand shot forward again and Trent nimbly dodged the knife blade tips.

Several more swipes forced him against a wall the metal hand raised for the final blow. Trent mumbled something under his breath and he suddenly sprang up into the air somersaulting and twisting to land behind Cranston a smirk on his bloodied lips. "I'm not as clumsy as I once was," Trent remarked giving his adversary a round house kick to the jaw.

Tex tripped backwards his left hand flying to his face.

As if some twist of fate wanted to prove Trent wrong the greasy liquid on Cranston came off onto his shoe and when he brought his foot down it slid out from under him and he fell on his ass with a thud.

Both men glared at the other taking a moment to gauge their next moves. Trent pushed himself up in a fluid motion and ran towards Cranston this time a pair of throwing stars flew from his hands. Both were targeted for Tex's head, but the man let the blades bury themselves in the frame of his right arm.

"Is that all you've got?" Cranston asked straightening up. Trent smiled in answer and yet again he whispered something under his breath. The throwing stars exploded. Cranston yelled in pain as part of his mechanical arm was dislocated. Bits of twisted metal fell or hung from the elbow and wrist joints. Exposed wires sparked and hissed. His clawed fingers went limp.

Trent gave a genuine smile from under the brim of his fedora. "You don't know the half of it." He answered. "Now put your hands up." Trent ordered.

Cranston chuckled. "Still playing Detective are we?" Trent said nothing but picked up his gun and pointed it at the man's head.

Tex did as he was told and as his enemy approached slowly he suddenly thrust his right arm forward. There was a sound like an engine spluttering to silence accompanied with a violent shower of sparks as the live wires made contact with Trent's chest. The man went rigid a half yell escaping his lips before he went limp and fell to the ground. His eyes stared in shock at Cranston who smirked and pulled his shredded arm away.

"Guess we know who wins this round. Until next time Gadget." He tipped his gunk soaked hat with his left hand and laughed as he walked away.

Trent tried to force himself to move, but his body refused to respond. He managed to stay conscious amidst the discomfort and stress and begged his mouth to work. He finally managed to murmur something under his shallow breath. "Hello?" A feminine voice questioned from the air.

"Vera, I'm going to need some help." His voice was weak and raspy.

"Right away. I'm sending a dispatch to your location now." The woman replied. Her soft voice was tinged with worry but she said nothing else.

Trent finally let the pain and shock have their way with him. His eyes drooped and his thoughts melted into shadows that drowned his entire subconscious as well.

* * *

**I'm also working on fanficcing Nekropolis by Tim Waggoner. So watch for that stuff!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2. This one happens to be a flashback character focus switch.**

Memories wafted, conversations went in and out, but one event seemed burned into his dream. The one memory he wished he could forget. Peninnah Westhoff came out of the office and sighed. Her long blond hair was held back in a French braid and the shadows under her green eyes undermined her energetic smile. She looked to be no older than fifteen, and yet she wore a clearance badge marked level five. Level five was restricted to more than half of the company's employees. In fact only about twenty percent knew what level five even meant. "I take it you've come for an opportunity to get an interview?" She asked.

The man and woman nodded. They were dressed like any anchor woman and camera man in the country, it hadn't been hard to determine their intentions. "Of course. We're all curious to see what Bioshock Industries is working on." She gave the younger woman a hearty smile.

Pen, as her close colleagues called her smirked. "I'm afraid I can't tell you anything more about our upcoming projects. Bioshock keeps a tight cork on it's information. Our computers aren't even hooked up to the grid. Our entire database is independent of the worldwide system." She winked as though she were giving away some secret. Pen continued down the blue steel hall passing other researchers as she went.

"Not even a little teaser?" The news woman asked. She was in her thirties, dark hair, light eyes, big lips, and a puppy dog pout that Pen disdained.

"Lara, please. I can't tell you more about cyborg technology than I already have. Bionic and cybernetic development remains classified and I can't release info to the press. In two months we make an announcement on whether or not cybernetics will be offered to the general populace, but for now it remains strictly for government use. Military and Law Enforcement require it the most."

"Don't you know the public can't wait two more months? They want to hear something encouraging. Cybernetics may just be the way to save lives from disease so why must it be kept secret?" Lara asked not discouraged to keep asking questions. Pen knew the camera was filming and this was the interview now.

"We keep it a secret because, and this was released to the media six months ago, the data we have is dangerous in the wrong hands. Cybernetics are not toys, they are tools. And we are very aware that a foolish man can put an entire city to waste by toying around with something far too dangerous and complicated for him. I'm not saying the whole world won't get what we're doing. But there are those that we are protecting the world from. Those who intend to abuse the power our research has to offer. Six years ago I joined the team on the first trials of cybernetic enhancements. I saw firsthand the horror that comes of misplaced ideas. There is nothing worse than seeing what you want to use for the greater good, be used for unspeakable evil."

Lara was quiet for a minute and Pen realized it was because she was obviously getting upset. "If you'll excuse me I do have work to get done." Pen said opening an elevator with her pass and climbing inside. The pad scanned her finger matrix and a green light overhead came on.

Pen sighed with relief when the steel doors closed. She still got too emotional about that part, but then what could she say, her family had suffered their mistakes with science.

The elevator came to a stop on the level five section, the topmost floors of the Bioshock building. Which was a monument of steel and glass to scientific progress. It towered above the city like a standard announcing that this town was to be the center of modern science. She walked straight for the operating room.

The room had no windows and DNA locks on the only door in and out. The room was a soft white color, the overhead lights were low so as not to cause initial shock upon an awakening patient. And it smelled like disinfectant and freshly welded metal.

Inside on the table was a familiar man. He was tall and lean, but with broad strong shoulders and a gentle but handsome face. "How is he?" Pen asked the team already at work.

"Trent is in stable condition. We're just replacing the last of the fried circuitry now."

Pen nodded. "Good. What debris were you able to recover?"

"The forensics left it over there." Pen looked where the hand pointed. Her eyes zeroed in on a torn scarf. It was a deep scarlet red. Pen closed her eyes forcing the memories out of her train of thought.

"No." She whispered. "He won't hurt me again." she added. But the agony of her parents' voices rang in her ears like the peals of a bell rung on Sunday morning. She sat down and looked at Trent. His body, so much of which had been replaced with cybernetic and bionic prosthetics, was like a puzzle maze of flesh and metal. Lungs resided within a metal chamber that protected them, along with the other organs they'd managed to salvage.

His heart was gone. And with organ transplants shut down due to black markets there had been no way to replace it with an organic one. A false heart resided in his chest in the proper spot, it was the key to their cybernetic work with him.

His arms were prosthetic, his legs as well, his limbs equipped with an astonishing array of devices that provided super human abilities. His hands were some of the most complex devises known to man. They were equipped with a variety of weapons and every day tools.

Pen had only had a recent hand in his work, now that she was old enough to officially work on the project. But she'd been involved from a very early age, Trent was after all her uncle and sole living relative.

Trent had come in well after midnight that morning, and the work of repairing the damage Cranston did had begun. Cranston had been their one mistake. They'd given a man power, and he'd abused it royally.

Tex Cranston was Trent's half brother and had once been a good friend. But Tex had found he wanted to do more with his newfound power than continue to help protect the world. And when Trent's sister (Tex's half-sister) Marian had seen him the last time he'd gone berserk. No one knew why, except for Trent who had been present, but he wouldn't say anything to anyone about the incident. And he had also taken it upon himself to avenge Marian, and her husband's deaths himself. With the help of Pen of course. She deserved to help.


	3. Chapter 3

Later that week Trent and Pen were called to the office. Police headquarters were dark and forbidding. It was sunset and the lights were not turned on. The sight made Trent feel cold, and he looked up at the building grimly. The doors opened easily enough and the two walked in slowly, cautiously. In the darkness men could be seen; officers of the law and men of a different nature. Trent led Pen deeper heading for Quimby's office. He moved like a shadow through the darkness. The green pinprick cominh to his right eye as he looked around. The door was open a crack and Trent carefully opened it.

Tex Cranston greeted them. Lights suddenly came on revealing that the precinct had been overtaken. There were men in black uniforms with guns trained on every officer. Quimby was seated at his desk Tex standing next to him. "So good of you to join us."

"What do you want with them?" Trent asked. He hadn't been expecting this, but if he showed any shock or fear it would give Cranston the upper hand. T

"Not them, just you." Tex had found himself a new scarf and hat and had his claw on Quimby's shoulder. If the Chief moved at all he would be ripped to ribbons.

"Then let's talk you and I." Trent replied. He took his hat off and looked at Cranston.

"I knew you would take the hero's stance on this." The suave voice was filled with mockery. "Altruism is what gets you into trouble." He chided.

"Enough about me, what do you want from me?" Trent asked. His eyes were dark and his feet were firm on the ground.

"Just your cooperation. I merely want a tour of Bioshock Industries. For personal reasons."

"You know why I can't do that."

"Then give me Peninnah." Tex replied. His smile dropped away. Pen gasped. She had remained quiet not sure what to do.

"Anything but the girl." Trent countered.

"Then we'll do this. You take me to Bioshock, we leave everyone else here and we can see what happens when we're done with our tour. But you do something and I call my men they shoot Peninnah first then the entire police force. We have to have rules Gadget."

"Fine." Trent said putting his hat back on.

"Wonderful. This sure does bring back memories doesn't it?" Tex left Quimby and waltzed over to Trent his right hand shrinking to look like a normal hand. He pulled gloves from his pockets. "Come Gadget." HE took the other man's arms and they left the precinct.

"Do as they say." Trent called over his shoulder before the doors shut.

Outside it was dark, there was a flurry of clouds in the sky blocking the moon. The precinct parking lot remained dead and lifeless. The wind began to pick up as they walked. The scent of dieing grass and turning leaves hung thick in the air.

"We'll take your car." Tex spoke up. "Since you were so kind as to bring it all the way here."

Trent bit his tongue. There were a number of responses he could have made but he wasn't in a position to piss his enemy off. "As you wish." He muttered under his breath.

"Let's not be a sour puss dear brother." Cranston's voice was dead serious. He gave the younger man a look that begged Trent to challenge him.

"Who do you want to drive?" Trent asked they reached his car and he unlocked the doors with a key that came out of his finger.

"You drive, it is your vehicle after all." Tex said opening the passenger door and sliding in. Once Trent was in the car Cranston shoved the muzzle of a gun against his head. "Now in case you think it would be fun to do something stupid, I want you to know I will kill you. I shoot you in the head this close and no work by any scientist is gonna salvage you."

"Understood." Trent replied before he started the car. He pulled out glancing at the dark building over his shoulder.

"Don't worry. If you do as I ask Peninnah and everyone else will survive. I give you my promise as the one and only Claw."

Trent looked at the man wanting to challenge his promise but the sudden fire in Tex's black eyes were warning enough. "You cost me a great deal of trouble last night Trent. You know I don't like it when you ruin my plans."

"You let me ruin your plans." Trent replied in an even tone. "I know you were waiting for me."

"I was hoping you'd bring that up." Cranston's voice turned conversational. "I thought if I left enough clues you'd notice. But I didn't expect to lose an entire months of work to you, or my arm." His words turned to ice. "Now listen up. You're going to use your clearance to get me into level five. I want to see what these scientists have come up with. And since they won't share any of it with me, I'm going to take whatever I like."

Trent frowned. "Doesn't the guy who fixes you up make his own toys?"

The muzzle of the gun jabbed into his head. "Getting smart little brother?"

"I am no longer your brother." Trent replied subdued. "We're not the same."

"No we aren't. But why do you insist on being the hero?"

"Because it's better than being the bad guy." Another gun jab to his head.

"Because you're stupid." Tex corrected, "You have power, unique power, I saw it when we fought last night. And I want to offer you a chance to make nice with me. Be my partner in crime."

"You know I can't." Trent replied quietly.

"I thought I'd ask." Tex sighed. Trent glanced over only to have the butt of Tex's gun smash into his face. Trent pulled back losing control of the car. Tex's right hand proceeded to smash his face into pulp. The car crashed and rolled the two men were tossed around. The car rolled a few times before coming to stop on it's roof. Tex cursed under his breath. Trent tried to do something but he was unable to see and his face hurt like something else.

"Sorry Gadget, but I can't have you following me. And I don't want to kill you, just yet." Before Trent had a chance to respond something hard struck the base of his skull and everything went dark. The dream began to fade, slowly, like butter melting into liquid.


	4. Chapter 4

**Back to the present. You may find a lot of flashing back. I'm trying to use it to explain things without summaraizing. So if you don't like the jumping back and forth I apologize, but it's the format I'm using with this story.**

Trent Foxx felt his mind returning to consciousness and he sighed. Vera had obviously gotten the dispatch team there in time to get his sorry ass working again. He waited until his legs and arms registered with the neural interface that connected the machine to the man. He sat up and looked around. To his relief Vera was the only one around. "Good Afternoon Detective Foxx." She greeted with a smile.

"Afternoon." Trent replied. He glanced at the mirror checking his face. There wasn't a single scar left from the fight. "Am I clear to head home?" Vera nodded. "Good, I'm still exhausted."

Trent stood up and stretched. He looked at Vera with a grave determination in his grey eyes. "I almost got him last night. If I had just kept my distance I would have had him."

"No use complaining about it now." the red haired woman replied. "I think you ought to get some rest. The Chief of Police wants to give you a new assignment Monday." Trent nodded as he pulled clean pants on over the boxers he had on. Vera didn't try to elicit anything out of him. Ever since Tex had killed Peninnah, Trent had been quieter than she had ever known him to be. But as Trent had told her once, sometimes things can change a man. Even if he doesn't want that change to come.

With grey slacks and a white button down shirt on he finally spoke. "Pen I hope you understand this when I say I'm sorry." Vera looked at him. She just remained quiet he was speaking to someone no longer among the living.

They left the building in relaxed silence. Trent brooding over the night's events. Vera drove Trent home. He was too tired to take the wheel of the car. Trent owned an older model muscle car. It was a 2017 Ford Mustang with the fastback and a rebuilt motor. The car wasn't as smooth as some of the more recent models but it was still good. Plus older models were a lot easier to retrofit into secret weapons.

As they drove he stared blankly at the advertisements. _Eat at Joe's, Four months till Christmas 2031, Vacation at Disneyland Resort today!_ Buildings reached for the sky, trees and flowers lined the highway to make it more relaxing. There were dozens of other drivers all in a hurry to get somewhere. But at the moment he didn't feel much connection to them. The only enemy he had ever made was back in town, he hadn't been able to go hunting for him outside of Metro City, but now that he was back it was Trent's duty to get rid of him.

He sighed. "Tex wants me to see something. He has some scheme he won't tell me about. He let me sneak up on him last night so we could talk, he wants me to chase after him."

"I don't see what he could possibly want." Vera replied not taking her eyes from the roads. She didn't pay much attention to the fight between Trent and Tex, she was just one of the researchers assigned to take care of the detective.

"Nor do I, yet." Trent replied. "But I figure I'll find out on Monday. Since when does the Chief hand me an assignment? I've chosen my own cases for the last year and a half now. I don't like it."

"Well hopefully he has something useful then." Vera added.

"Yeah, hopefully." Trent whispered.

Vera dropped Trent off. He ran a few checks, the pupil of his right eye lit up green and he scanned the doors, windows, and locks. As a detective it was his duty to notice things out of the ordinary especially in his own home. There were no unusual signs. The furniture was where it should be, there were no fingerprints. The TV screen in the wall was normal and the curtains were untouched. There wasn't even a pillow out of place on the couch. He took a deep breath the scent of dust and wood somewhat reassuring.

Trent sat down in front of the television and tried to relax. He just had to figure out what Tex was up to this time.

"Your time's running out?" He asked no one. I think he's planning to finish me off. Try to get rid of me so there's no one left." Trent answered in a somber tone. But he knew that would not be. He was going to have to kill Tex, if not then what was he doing?

He'd managed to hang on when Peninnah was still alive, but after Tex had killed her there was only the thought of revenge. The Bioshock team kept him going, gave him tools, but all he wanted was blood. And only one man's blood could do.

Trent stood up and walked to the kitchen, opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. He grabbed the bottle cap with his metal fingers and pried it off easily. Though his attempts to get drunk never worked he still drank excessively, if only because he could. He took a long swallow enjoying the crisp flavor. But when he looked around at the otherwise lonely apartment he felt that weight in the pit of his stomach.

But before he could allow himself to get sucked into his thoughts he turned the television on. The news came on and to his regret they were featuring a story about the fight. The street that he and Tex had battled on was cleaned already by the police but the reporter, Lara Krysalis was searching for anything of use. The bouncer from Dolly's spoke to the camera.

"He just kind of walked out of the shadows, and he followed the patron from the bar. I figured he was a cop, he looked like it, spoke like he was. In a matter of minutes the two were fighting, but it wasn't like any fight I'd ever seen. The one in the coat jumped up maybe ten feet in the air and then sprayed some black liquid from some hidden weapon. The other man, his whole right arm was a metal claw, he cut his opponent up pretty good. Scariest thing was when the guy with the claw electrocuted the cop. I've never seen so many sparks."

Lara thanked her and turned to the camera. "We're asking for any other eye witness accounts. You know who to call."

Trent shook his head. "I guess I ain't doing so well with the 'undercover' part of my job."


	5. Chapter 5

**More flashback picking up where I last left off. **

Penny was in danger. The thought was as simple as that. Eyes struggled to open, there was something keeping them shut. A hand found its way to remove whatever was blocking his eyes. Pain erupted at the touch. Events came back and with a sick feeling he realized his face was caked in blood. His blood. He managed to open his right eye. He was still in the car shards of glass all around him. The rearview mirror was cracked but still in tact. Trent looked at himself.

Half dried blood coated most of his lean face, there was a copious amount of it and he could tell that his nose was smashed, the broken metal inlay was crushed to shards that were most likely causing more damage to the flesh of his face. He had to breath through his mouth.

Time was against him though and he struggled out of the car. Blood loss had weakened him considerably. He stumbled on back the way he had come. The ground wavered in his vision like a mirage. Here memories were fuzzy, thoughts were scrambled and Trent could not recall how he managed to make it back to the precinct.

Cranston was waiting for him. Trent walked in unable to think about anything other than saving his niece. There was no sign of the officers around and Tex's men led him to the office. There Quimby was seated face down on the desk a trail of blood from the corner of his mouth. Trent's one good eye locked onto the man and he was sure his friend was dead.

"He gave me somewhat of a fight after I let his men free. I was simply putting him in his place." Cranston shrugged as if it were nothing more than yanking a hair from his head.

"Bastard." Trent spat, he found himself leaning on the wall. The desk had begun to sway in his vision. "He was my friend, Tex. That's just another reason for me to stop you."

"Yes I know, you've got to keep tally on how many people you love I destroy." Tex sighed. "What made you so dependent on relationships? Honestly you give me the advantage by keeping ties."

"At least that makes me accountable. If I have people to keep me in check I won't become a monster like you." Trent growled.

"Touché." Cranston replied. "By letting go I've become free of moral and ethical ties based on society. I do as I wish." Tex pulled a phone out and spoke to someone. "Bring the girl in."

Trent's head snapped up. "What did you do to her?"

"She's unharmed. The girl is smarter than your pal on the desk." In answer two of the uniformed men escorted Penny into the room. She turned her green eyes on her uncle and rushed to him.

"Uncle Trent!" She exclaimed hugging him. He hugged her tightly glad she seemed physically ok. "Oh I'm so sorry, I tried to talk him out of killing Quimby.." the girl lost her voice as she choked on a sob."

"Sh." Trent whispered. "It's not your fault."

"How touching. Now Trent I have a proposition. You let me kill you and she can go." Tex said rubbing the fingernails of his left hand against his lapel.

"I don't trust you." Trent retorted as Peninnah held onto him tighter.

"I give you my promise."

"I trusted you last night, and look what good that did me."

"True," Cranston admitted with a devious smile. "Fine, I'll just kill you both."

Trent lifted his right hand and after speaking some sort of command a laser shot from his index finger and sliced through the wires on Tex's right arm. The beam winked out suddenly though before the claw could be damaged enough to stop Cranston.

Tex laughed. "Last ditch effort?" He questioned. Trent tried to move but his body refused to obey his will.

Tex made to bring the arm down on the two. Penny suddenly pulled a small gun from her uncle's coat and fired into their enemy's chest. Tex stumbled back but then he charged forward with a yell and slashed at the girl.

Trent screamed as his niece fell to the floor her stomach and chest shredded. Blood pooled around her as she struggled for breath. He grabbed the gun and without hesitation fired a few more times. Tex went down unconscious but not dead.

"Hold on." Trent commanded kneeling beside her. He stared at her bloody chest. He pulled off his coat and pressed it tightly against her to stop the bleeding. He had to save her, keep her alive until paramedics could get to her.

"It's ok." Penny assured.

"It will be," Trent replied. He pulled a phone from his coat. "This is Foxx, send medical help to Precinct 14 at least two down."

'affirmative.'

Penny frowned. "I won't make it that long, but it's ok. I'm going to see mom and dad again."

"Please don't leave me." Trent begged salty tears cutting through the died blood.

"I can't stay, my mind…" She trailed off closing her eyes.

"Penny," Trent shook her and her eyes opened. "Stay awake." He ordered gently.

"I love you Uncle," she gasped raising a hand. He took it with his own wishing he could feel her warm skin.

"No Penny," Trent's voice grew tight. "I love you, I need you."

"Goodbye," Penny breathed. "You'll be okay without me. I know it."

"No, no," he cried The girl's eyes closed and she smiled before stumbling over her last breath.

As Trent wept over the girl people slipped into the room and dragged Tex away. They were his own men. Trent didn't even notice them.

He was too busy mourning the loss of his last remaining relative, and the last friend he had.

At some point paramedics arrived and pried the man from his niece's body. They were forced to sedate him as they checked the Police Chief as well. They claimed he was savable and loaded him into the ambulance as well.


	6. Chapter 6

Trent woke up on the couch the empty beer bottle in his hand. He sighed. He rubbed his face irritated by his dreams. It was somewhat of a curse that his only dreams had always been reliving the events of his past. It was as if even his own subconscious wanted him to suffer the horrors of his life over and over again.

He looked at the watch on his wrist. It was almost six which meant Anthony Quimby would still be at the office. The man was dedicated to his work even on a Saturday.

He pulled a small cell phone from his pants pocket and dialed a number. "Hey Chief. So what's this job you have for me on Monday?"

'Can't it wait till Monday?' Anthony asked.

"No it can't. I have a feeling my next assignment and my fight last night have a connection." Trent replied seriously.

Anthony sighed heavily on the other side. "Alright. We'll meet in an hour at our usual meeting place."

Trent nodded. "Alright."

The usual meeting place was an old fashioned bar. Trent arrived early to find a parking spot in the local complex. This area of Metro City was known for always being busy.

Trent parked and then walked nearly a block to the bar that he was meeting his friend at. He was dressed in a green button down shirt and black slacks. His hair was slicked back. He wore gloves made of synthetic skin with false nails.

He took a seat at the bar. The room was full of people laughing, talking, and drinking. Smoke from cigarettes floated near the ceiling creating a haze. Dimly lit lights hung on iron sconces. The wood paneled walls were dark and mirrors hung from them to spread the meager light.

Voices rose in a din of merry making and drunken confusion. Nothing out of the ordinary. Trent put his hands on the smooth black wood and waited for the bartender to ask the inevitable question. "What can I get you Trent?" The familiar husky voice queried on cue.

"My usual." Trent replied without even glancing at the short dark skinned man.

"Comin' right up."

"Thanks." Trent stared at a knot in the wood. He found himself always staring at the tiniest details.

The bartender put a beer bottle on the counter in front of Trent and left silently. Trent took the open bottle in one hand. He held it for a few moments.

A voice from the background became suddenly loud and he turned to see the police Chief.

"Trent, I'm glad to see you're up on your feet again."

"Hey Anthony, let's just take care of business. I don't have time to practice proper social standards." Trent kept his voice smooth. He wanted to grab the man by the lapels of his suit jacket and throttle him. As the Police Chief he was privy to all sorts of information about the city's criminal activity. And Anthony had willfully not told Trent about Tex's return.

"I knew you would say that." Anthony sat on the stool next to Trent and ordered a beer. He leaned heavily on the bar and his eyes betrayed his calm manner. He didn't want to have to say what he had come to talk about. And he had no other choice.

"So what haven't you told me?" Trent asked.

"That Tex was back in Metro City. And that he is looking to get his hands on some new research. I don't think even you know about it. It's a kind of weapon Bioshock is working on. A prototype smart bomb, a device that will be able to destroy a number of predetermined targets in one launch. It can travel at record speeds and protect itself against attempts to destroy it or alter it's course."

Trent raised a dark eyebrow, but said nothing else. Anthony continued, "It's our belief he wants to exact revenge on the government. We caught a hit man of his and managed to pump just enough out of him to know that he's got a detailed list of secret government installations."

A few silent moments passed. Anthony took this time to take a long swallow of his beer.

Trent took in a sudden shaky breath. He tasted the smoke as it flowed into his nostrils. But his lungs didn't contract like they should have. He didn't even flinch as he expelled the breath with a sigh. "How long?' He asked seriously. An edge of controlled anger spiked his tone.

"About a month now." Anthony replied not meeting the other man's gaze.

"A month?" Trent nearly shouted. He lowered his voice quickly. "He's been here for a month, you knew it, and didn't tell me?" His dark voice was almost a growl.

There was no response for a moment. Anthony kept his eyes on the bar and opened his mouth several times with an excuse on his tongue, but he always swallowed them back. There was no excuse he could offer to appease to his friend's anger.

"I didn't want you to get caught up in it again." He finally answered. "Last time you two fought he nearly killed you. And he could have succeeded last night." There was a hint Anthony wanted to say may more but he knew better.

Trent felt the words digging at him. So he wasn't the world's greatest detective. He could live with that. What he couldn't live with was the shame he felt at letting everyone down time and again. And the only way he could wipe that slate clean was by destroying Tex. Not just killing him. But forgetting him, erasing his existence from those who still knew who he truly was.

"It's still the same no matter what." Trent spoke through clenched teeth. "You give this assignment to anyone else, partner me with anyone, or even try to keep me off Tex's trail and you will regret it. I have one job when it comes to him, and no one is going to keep from accomplishing it."

The detective stood up and dropped a bill on the bar before turning away from Anthony and sighed. "I'll take care of him if I have to do it with a badge or not."

The Chief watched him walk through the crowd and smoke. "That's what I'm afraid of."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey there readers. It's that time again to revisit Trent's disturbing past. I apologize but I am a terrible sucker for extremely despicable conditions imposed on characters. So yeah...ENJOY!**

Trent couldn't sleep. Despite his feeling of being tired, part of which was just an interpretation of his body's low energy warning, he wasn't sleepy in the least. Two eyes stared at the ceiling searching for something they wouldn't find. Trent himself wondered what he was looking for. Certainly not a physical object. More like a sign, or an omen. Something to let him know what he was doing was right.

It never really felt virtuous to begin hunting down a man with a vengeful drive. If there was a god, Trent wanted a sign. An honest to goodness blessing of approval that he was doing something for the purpose of the greater good. If not, then what was his life about? This sort of thinking would surely leave him awake until the sun rose.

But as he tried to come up with a reason not to kill his own half brother, the reasons why he should became much more clear. And as a few memories cluttered his thoughts, he managed to drift into a fitful sleep complete with tormenting dreams.

Penny was only nine when her Uncle came to take her for the day. Her parents were celebrating their anniversary and Trent had offered to take his niece to give them some time. Marian hugged the girl at the door and smiled at her brother. "Thank you Trent." It was only a year since he and Tex had been in an accident working over seas for the government. They were partners working for the CIA. And they had just recently been released from the Bioshock Infirmary.

"Don't mention it. We'll have a great time won't we?" He asked the small girl in pigtails. She nodded.

The two climbed into Trent's Mustang and drove off. Trent took Penny to the movies, lunch, and then to the science museum. These events were mundane, but in a memory each smiling second cut into his heart. They were the calm before the storm.

On the drive home they stopped and got ice cream. Which Penny spilled on the seat. Trent gave her the rest of his assuring her it wasn't a big deal though she apologized numerously. With the sun almost setting they pulled up to the house.

The door to the Westhoff home was ajar and Trent instinctively took it as a bad sign. He put his finger to his lip and Penny nodded, she would remain silent. The two peaked into the room but could see nothing. There were no noises from within the house, though Trent's modified hearing picked up three heart beats. Two were faltering. "You stay here and hide in the bushes," he whispered. Penny nodded and crouched in the flowerbed.

Trent quietly pushed the door open and walked into the house. The familiar entry hall was unblemished. A sign that there had been no struggle to get inside. Whoever was here had either been invited in, or was someone Marian and Derek knew.

The breathing grew louder in his ears and as he came to the living room the sensors in his nose picked up on blood. Trent held his breath, the scent was disturbing, even if it was a digital analyses that his brain received.

He turned the corner and the living room did not surprise him. Blood was spattered on the walls and carpet. The furniture had been shoved and knocked over. The couch cushions were shredded and the fluffing inside gave a sickening sensation it had snowed in the room. The coffee table was splintered and lying atop the remains was Derek. The man had been flung on his back atop the table, splinters of wood dug into his sides and a long series of gashes cut a diagonal pattern along his chest. Trent went to his brother-in-law hoping to help and maybe learn what was happening.

"Derek. Hey, Derek!" Trent whispered urgently. He didn't want to yell. His ears picked up the shallow breaths and fading heart beat. Derek opened his eyes and stared at Trent. They were clouded and glazed over the brown irises were dull. Trent spoke as quietly as he could. "Derek, it's me Trent. What happened? Who attacked you?"

Recognition donned in the other mans' eyes and he coughed up blood as he tried to speak. "…ex" He sucked in a breath through his mouth. "Mar...ian…upstairs…came to…kill…us." He coughed some more as Trent tried to steady the shaking man. Derek's blood splattered on his hands and sleeves.

"You wait here. I'll call for help." Trent glanced around at the room. The walls had been dug into. He pulled out his private phone and dialed a number. "This is an emergency. My sister and brother-in-law have been attacked I came to the house and found Derek unconscious. He needs medical attention immediately. I'm going to check on my sister. The first victim says she's upstairs. ….I'm a detective, I will be just fine." He turned for the front door. He hurried to where Penny huddled behind a bush. "Penny, can you tell the woman on the phone your address?" The girl nodded taking notice of the blood on his arms. He gave her a brave smile, "Everything will be ok." He handed her the phone and she put it against her ear.

Trent hurried back inside and up the stairs. He took them two at a time. He grabbed the railing with his right hand when his foot slipped. He looked down at the wooden stairs. They were coated in blood and he had slipped on it. The thick liquid clung to his shoe and he felt the nausea rising.

He followed the trail of blood and destruction to the master bedroom. The door was closed. He tried the knob and found it was locked. He gripped the door knob with his hand and slowly twisted. He heard the metal bolt inside groan against the inner workings of the lock. With a snap the bolt gave way and he shoved the door open.

Tex, his right arm a hideous sharp claw, stood over Marian lying on the bed. She was in her clothes, with her shirt hiked up to expose her ripped open stomach. Blood pooled on the bed around her. Her arms were marred by long gashes the seeped red rivulets. Tex looked at Trent and grinned. "Hello brother."

"What have you done?" Trent screamed. He ran to Marian and checked her pulse. It was already fading away. Tears welled in his eyes as he stroked her bloodied cheek. "Marian please wake up."

"She's not going to." Tex replied. His suave voice carried a hint of pride.

Trent turned to glare at him through his tears. "You bastard." Trent began in a low growl. He stalked toward Tex. "How could you?" He continued his voice rising in pitch. Tex, who's handsome face was visible at the time grinned.

"Why not?" He replied. "I have power. You have power. We're not just men anymore. Look at this." He raised his large mechanical arm. "It's the power of a God." Tex whispered.

"It's the weapon of a homicide." Trent replied. He stopped just in front of his half brother. "And you will pay for that."

"Fool. I am unstoppable now. With this I have transcended humanity, and I will exact my revenge on those who have held me back." Tex's eyes were crazed. He had surely lost his mind. Trent shook his head pitying the man.

"You've gone crazy. You killed our sister. Our sister!" Trent pointed at the bed. "That's what you did. You just robbed Penny of her mother. You killed your half sister, why? What did she ever do to you to deserve that?" His voice was a sea of raw emotions.

"Don't appeal to my compassion." Tex growled. "I have none, it's no longer necessary. This is all need." He waved the cybernetic arm for emphasis.

Trent charged him then using his recently added strength to shove the other man to the ground. Tex grunted and swiped his blade like fingers across Trent's face. He screamed but instead of falling back he brought a fist to Tex's chin.

Tex put his left hand around Trent's neck and began to squeeze. Trent panicked for a second before remembering his trachea couldn't be shattered by mere force anymore. He mumbled a command "Activate buzz saw," and a spinning saw blade came out of his wrist. The blade sliced into Tex's cheek and carved a line down to his chin. Blood and bits of flesh and bone flew from the rotating blade.

Tex screamed and grabbed the thin arm that protruded from Trent's wrist and yanked the whole device out. Wires tore from Trent's arm and sparks flew. A striking pain shot through his spine. He gasped as he was released and dropped to the floor.

Tex put his fingers to his shredded face and looked at the blood. "You will pay for that." He stood up slowly. "I was going to invite you to join me, as a brother and a partner. But since you have chosen humanity over power I think I'll kill you." He raised his claw.

A scream made them both turn to the door. Penny, still holding the phone and crying, stood in the doorway. She stared unbelieving at the bloody pair. Her eyes looked to her mother on the bed and she fell to her knees. Sobs shook her small frame and her tears spilled to the floor mixing with the blood.

Trent scrambled to his feet to go to her but a vice grip snatched his leg and he fell face first to the floor. Tex laughed. "Hello Penny."

Tex took a step towards the girl. Trent grabbed a fistful of pant leg and pulled. He rose to his knees, "Activate electrogun," he whispered. From his right wrist a gun barrel protruded, aimed at Tex, and fired into his back. The man fell to the floor just inches from Penny. The girl screamed again, but accompanied with another sound.

The sound of shattering glass rose to Trent's ears. That didn't belong in the memory. The traumatizing dream melted away. Trent sat up and stared at the room. He was in his bed room with the lights off. He sat up and the moonlight streaming through the window glistened on the shattered remains of a glass. That explained the noise, he must have turned over and knocked it off. Either way the dream left him shaky and unwilling to go back to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Short chapter. But this is building up to the climax. Had some last minute ideas I worked in.**

Trent walked down the street. His anger was apparent not only by the glare in his dark eyes, but by the way he stormed through the crowd. He kept his eyes straight ahead observing the other pedestrians as he passed. His hands were in his coat pockets clenched into two tight fists. Someone bumped into him and he didn't even bother to apologize. Normally he would have said something polite, but he just shrugged and kept marching on.

_Let him kick me out for a few days. Just cause he thinks I'm too involved doesn't mean I won't do my job. I have a promise to keep. _

Trent felt eyes on his back and smirked. It wasn't one of Anthony's men keeping an eye on him. If it was Tex's crony then this may be an advantageous event. With the police Chief forcing a three day vacation on him he was unable to make any moves using his badge. Unless he was forced by the enemy into a situation that required his skill.

It was partly his fault. The investigation had been slow for a week and Trent had broken a few rules and tried to get some information by hacking a computer. That had been his first mistake, his second had been cussing Chief Quimby out when he was caught.

Now he would wait, and give this goon a chance to get bold. If he thought Trent was vulnerable then he could call his pals and plan an ambush. That would be just fine. A long range scan proved Trent's theory to be right. There was one man following him.

Pleased with his discovery Trent continued walking making a turn into a coffee shop. He glanced at his watch again, the display showed one unmoving dot across the street. Trent ordered a black coffee merely for the taste of it. He liked the hot bitter brew. On his way out he nearly tripped on his own pant leg. Managing to save himself too much embarrassment he suffered a small slosh all over his coat sleeve.

He wondered about how clumsy he always was. Maybe he was getting worse. There had been a recent discussion at Bioshock warning him his nerves were deteriorating. In recent weeks they'd projected a six month period before the biomechanical nerve connections burned out his remaining nerves.

He didn't have time to worry about how long he had to complete this task. He had to stop Tex once and for all. He continued on his way purposely heading towards an unpopulated part of the city. It was the perfect place for an ambush, and an even better place to stay out of the Chief's line of sight.

It would take a while for a response team to get there. And that was perfect because he needed to be gone before they arrived.

In an old rundown park filled with uncontrolled forests of thigh high weeds he sat down and waited. Cat and mouse wasn't a game Trent enjoyed, but he'd take what he could get. He took off his hat and checked it. The weapons implanted into the thick felt were all operational.

A sound finally reached his ears. He put his hat back on, downed the rest of his now cold coffee, and pulled out two guns. They were both black with blue cartridges behind the muzzle.

Footsteps approached and Trent grew still. He stood, his eyes closed listening to three, four, five men come from all different sides.

Trent wasn't going to kill them all. He'd down probably two, fake an injury, and let them drag him to wherever Tex was hiding.

Men in black military style outfits surrounded him. Each one had a gun trained on Trent's head. He used the barrel of his left gun to tip his hat in greeting. Without a word he aimed the other gun and fired. One man fell to the ground, the one who had been following him.

The other four began firing and slowly closed the space between them and Trent. Trent kept his head low, the bullets bouncing off his hat and coat harmlessly. There was no way Tex knew about the armored coat. Not even an armor piercing round could penetrate the steel/iron alloy lining. Trent smirked and fired again. The blast struck one of the men in the chest and sent him to the ground several yards behind.

By this time Trent was being grabbed by the other men. He struggled until they started hitting him. Though most of the blows weren't painful he slumped when one of them hit him in the head.

Trent kept his eyes closed as they hit him a few more times. Then they began dragging him. He remained quiet, listening to them laugh at how easy it was to take him down.

"He ain't so tough." One remarked.

"Yeah, but dam he's heavy." Another replied.

"The guy's practically a robot. All that metal isn't light." The third spoke up. Obviously one of them wasn't as stupid as the others. Trent took offense at the robot comment, but he didn't let them know he was awake.

They threw him into a van and chained his hands to a bar inside. Then they took off for their hideout. Trent suppressed a smile, they had no clue he was recoding their trip with a GPS system in his watch. He tried to remain still as stone as they drove on, but he wasn't in a very comfortable position. After a while he found himself almost falling asleep, but by this time the van stopped.


	9. Chapter 9

Somebody kicked Trent. "Wake up!" The voice was gruff and had that no nonsense edge to it. Trent pretended to wake up, groaning and rubbing his head. He opened his eyes and put on an air of mock surprise.

"Where are we?" He asked.

"None of your damn business." The dark haired man kicked Trent again. "Now get up and move. I ain't draggin' your ass anymore."

Trent stood up as they unchained him and followed quietly. He needed to remain focused, and he didn't think they would take kindly to friendly chitchat. They led him into a dark warehouse. It was old and abandoned by the looks of it.

The doors weren't guarded by people but there was a camera in the wall.

They escorted him through several halls and into a large room. There was no one in the room and just a single chair. Windows on the wall shone black with the night's blanket.

The large leather chair spun around and Cranston's covered face greeted him. "Nice of you to stop by," he crooned.

"I didn't have much of a choice." Trent replied. He was going to play the game as long as he could. He knew that activating his tracking system was useless. The building was satellite proof.

"You'll have to forgive my men. They aren't as refined as you and I." Tex continued. He was rather relaxed, that made Trent bold. Maybe they could end it all right here.

Trent just shrugged. "Come now Trent, aren't you a little upset by this?"

"Yes, but I'm not about to get the shit beat out of me by being rude." Trent knew he needed to keep the cards in his favor.

"A wise decision." Tex stated with a grin. "So I assume you want to know my plans?"

"You want that smart bomb." Trent replied. He was playing trapped, not stupid.

Tex clapped. "Very good."

"Why?" Trent dared to ask.

"Because I am going to wreak havoc. I plan to wipe out as much of the Military as I can. I'm going to take over this country and you can not stop me."

"Why is that?" Trent asked.

"Because you will be dead." Tex smirked. "You are just a loose end I've been unable to tie up. This time I'm just going to cut you off."

Trent faked shock. He knew they had the same agenda for each other. But he was buying time while he tried to figure out the scanner readings he was getting.

Cranston laughed. "Don't look so surprised. You and I both know that this has to end. I've gone about this the wrong way. From day one you always seem to survive. I should have killed you before the accident." There was a dark gleam in Tex's eyes.

Trent opened his mouth to say something then closed. As he realized what the other man had said he forgot about the watch scanner and it's info on the building. His arms hung limply at his sides as he looked at the Tex. "What?" He managed. It felt like his brain had suddenly been put on ice. He thoughts were vague and numb.

Cranston laughed. "You honestly don't get it do you." He stood up and pointed at Trent. "Sit down and let me tell you a little secret."

Trent glanced around, there wasn't another chair. "I'll take my chances on my feet."

"Suit yourself." Tex replied. "Remember our days in the CIA? I do. I remember them very differently than you. It was back when they planted us inside that illegal weapons manufacturer. When they confiscated all that weapons development, they sold a great portion of it to Bioshock. But that's not what matters here. What matters here is what I gained from that experience. I learned about a theoretical weapon. A device that was only spoken about. A device that could change the face of Earth forever."

Trent listened with a frown. He knew those days very well.

"I learned about a weapon that could target as much as ten separate locations at once. There was a total of one brilliantly drawn blue print. It was beautiful. Simply the most amazing thing I had ever seen. And do you know who the CIA sold it to? Bioshock. They didn't lock it up like I expected them to. And that's when I realized something. Realized that I no longer had to struggle under someone else's thumb.

"I could take on anyone and anything, if I had that rocket. So I decided that I needed it. And that I needed to get rid of you. Sure the whole, 'he's my brother' morality slowed me down for a while, but I knew you'd never roll with it. So I planned that explosion in New York. I managed to get hold of one of those worthless weasels from the weapons factory and he took care of everything. Right down to the last second everything went according to my plan." He paused and his casual prideful voice turned sinisterly dark. "But the idiot made the bomb too damn big. I wasn't supposed to get touched by it. I was going to let you die in a hospital bed. I had my eulogy all ready to go. Instead of getting rid of you cleanly, the two of us were taken to Bioshock and they just had to put your miserable body back together again."

"It's not as surprising as I thought it would be." Trent replied coolly. He was appalled by what was being said, but there was nothing that could surprise him anymore. Nothing Tex said now would shock him. In fact Trent's memory was beginning to lapse over his thoughts.

It was just a few months after the explosion. Trent had woken up to find himself alive, but not well. There was no way to avoid what they had done to save his life, so he took it as it came. He never once complained, he didn't turn around and pity himself, and he didn't get angry. When he finally saw Tex, the two had gone through so much it was awkward at first. And the frown on Tex's face, the frown Trent mistook for physical pain, had been an angry frown. Tex was cold, he didn't speak much, and he certainly didn't smile.

Trent had mistaken the behavior as related to his brother's recovery.

But a single sentence Tex had said seemed to echo with a new meaning.

"I didn't think you'd survive." Tex had whispered it to no one under his breath. Obviously Tex had thought it went unheard. And Trent had never mentioned it, but now that he could see the moment. The two standing a yard apart facing each other. Both very different since the last time they'd been together. Trent had been glad to see Tex, a smile had worked it's way through his lips and refused to go away. Tex on the other hand had been reserved, contemplative, and even standoffish. Trent had hugged the man, "Man am I glad we made it out of that one alive." Those had been his words.

"Me too." Was Tex's sour reply. And then he'd whispered those words. Words that Trent had mistaken for grateful shock. Words that hadn't made much sense since the blast had rendered them both unconscious.

Now it made sense. As Trent had once suspected, it wasn't the cybernetic repair work that had damaged Tex's soul. The man's soul had been damaged before that. He was always the one to make the kill when the mission required it. Tex had been bad early on. Growing up Trent had noticed a violent streak in his older half-brother.

He'd tried to give Tex the benefit of the doubt. He'd always gone into a fight with him hoping he could beat some sense into the man. But he had been wrong. So very wrong.

"I should have paid more attention." Trent whispered. "You were evil even before we were adults. I just tried to look past it. Tried to keep a positive view of you. And I did that because you were my brother."

"Yes I know. You have the perfect hero's heart. You think you can see the good in everyone." Tex fired back. "But you've wasted enough of my time. Goodbye Gadget." Something changed in the room. A low humming noise emanated from the desk.

Trent's thoughts became slow and fuzzy. He found it hard to stand. His sharp vision blurred briefly. And when it cleared Cranston was already upon him. Something silver blurred and then a far away pain registered in his faltering mind. He fell back, landing on the floor with a thud though he wasn't quite sure what had happened. He stared at the ceiling unable to comprehend he was being attacked. A shadow passed over him and another painful yet disconnected sensation came through his muddled mind.

Laughter, as though it were from behind a wall, filtered through. For a moment everything went black, and then it came back even more blurred and distant. Trent tried to remember where he was, and what he had been doing. But all he could focus on was the bright fluorescent tube above him. Another blur of silver in the corner of his eye followed by complete blackness.


	10. Chapter 10

A gasp, a shudder, eyes snapping open, and a single blaring thought brought Trent back some minutes later. He had lost his vision for just a moment, forgotten his purpose just briefly. A pair of long sharp blades extended from above his hands and before he saw what he was doing he slashed a shadow to his left.

A surprised gasp and the sound of fabric and flesh being cut made him turn to see the shocked Tex stagger back. Blood seeping from his chest.

Trent felt a searing pain in his chest, but he didn't let it stop him from using the tips of the blades to propel himself to his feet. He pursued Tex without a second thought. There was vengeance to be had and a sin that would only be made clean with blood. He was tired of being the better man, he was going to take him down even if he destroyed what little remained of his soul.

Tex was just recovering from his shock and about to make a counter strike when Trent's deadly blades found their target again. This time Trent drew an X across Cranston's chest.

The man gasped as more blood dropped to the floor. He managed to swipe that horrid claw of his and struck Trent in the face. Trent's vision blurred for a second, blood began to drip into his eyes, and he felt part of his neural interface disconnect. His left eye went completely black leaving a blind spot.

Tex was leaning against the wall using the moment to catch his breath. He glanced at the desk now behind Trent. There was a control panel on it, and it was the only thing that was going to save him. Trent followed the gaze and looked back at the desk.

"Activate rocket launch," Trent whispered. His left wrist blade shrank away and a small projectile flew from his coat sleeve. It arced over Trent and shot for the desk. Trent didn't even watch the explosion, the force made his hair and coat flutter and he felt the intense heat.

Tex lunged forward trying to surprise Trent, but his swift arm was blocked and pushed back. Trent's foot came up suddenly against Cranston's chest and shoved him to the floor. Without a single word Trent put his left foot on his enemy's mechanical arm and stood over him.

Blood dripped from his chest onto the floor next to Tex. "I am going to finish this." Trent growled.

Tex chuckled. "Forgetting something?" He asked in a strained voice. "You're in my territory."

The door swung open suddenly and gunfire came through the dark opening. Trent ducked his head under an arm and waited for the barrage to come to an end.

When the gun clicked emptily he shot to his feet and flicked his right wrist. A simple blade lodged itself into the uniformed man's head just between the eyes. He fell face forward into the room with the a loud thunk.

Tex managed to wrench his arm free and threw the other man off balance. A swift upward kick and Trent was crashing into the smoldering remains of the desk.

Tex got up and stalked over to the desk. "I am going to kill you for good." He snarled.

Trent pushed himself up only to be shoved back down. His hand grasped the red scarf around Tex's face and it came loose revealing the scar from their first battle. He tried to think, there had to be some way of defeating Cranston. His brain was addled though and all he had was his determination. Trent lunged away from the desk grabbing Tex in a hug like grip.

Tex fell backwards with Trent on top of him. Trent brought his fist against the man's face and repeated the violent blow several times. "You couldn't let it go!" Trent yelled. "I understand it now, you didn't kill Marian and Derek because you had anything against them. It was to punish me for not dying in that damn explosion!" Trent's eyes became glassy. "You killed Penny to get back at me for your face!" He brought his fist down once more. "You are a monster!" Tears spilled down his face.

"Look who's talking," Cranston whispered through his swollen lips. His nose was crushed and blood flowed from his nostrils. His right eye was already bruising black and he struggled to breath.

Trent looked at his hands and stood up quickly. He found himself staring in horror at the man he was fighting. He'd never wreaked so much havoc on one person. Shaking he tried to justify his actions. There were lost lives that required vengeance, and there were innocent lives to be saved. There was no longer an option to give a second chance or even be merciful. He didn't have a single notion about forgiving Tex. There was only judgment to be dished out.

Tex struggled up to his feet. His claw opened and closed in waiting. The battle had come to a head. Both men were in danger of losing their lives, and only one of them would be victorious. Trent prepared to counter his opponent's next attack.

Cranston's legs tense and he flashed a bloodstained grin before shooting forward. Trent opened his mouth to whisper a command.


	11. Chapter 11

Tex slashed at Trent with all his strength. Trent accepted the lunge holding the attacking arm at bay with his own. He finished his verbal command and a flash of light from his right eye blinding Tex. Trent sidestepped Tex as he stumbled forward. Trent prepared to attack again, but Cranston managed to swing his arm and catch Trent's left side.

Trent was thrust to his right slamming into the wall and leaving a crater in it. He pushed away from the wall with a pained hiss and faced Tex. The other man was getting his vision back and he didn't wait to pull a gun from his suit jacket and squeeze out ten rounds. A few bullets bounced off of the torn trench coat harmlessly, but two or three found flesh or synthetic muscle to burrow into.

Grunts of pain were the only noise from Trent as he remained upright. He was loosing strength with every second. His left eye was still out and he could hear something in his chest making an awful rattling noise. He entertained a dismal thought that he sounded like a dying car.

Tex was coming back for another attack. His movements were slow and clumsy though and he left himself wide open. Trent's fist brought him to a halt. He managed to stay on his feet and made to fire again. This time Trent grabbed for the gun and knocked it away. But not before a few bullets were fired. He pulled back his damaged hand with a jerk. Sparks flew from the now exposed wires and inside mechanism.

Cranston took a heavy breath. They were well matched this battle and it was apparent. He laughed lightly, "Even now this very fight is futile." Trent said nothing as he tried to focus on Tex.

The man opened his mechanical hand revealing a secret energy cannon installed in the palm. He took aim and was about to blast Trent, most likely putting an end to his enemy, but Trent quickly mumbled something.

A metal tube came out of his left wrist. It swiveled toward Cranston and released a jet of orange fire. The man fell back a curdled scream escaping his throat.

Trent kept up the blast of fire aiming it at Tex's chest. The pinstriped suit caught on fire and the smell of burning flesh tainted the room. Trent finally stopped and Tex fell to the floor shaking. His eyebrows and most of his hair was completely gone. Angry red blisters formed all over his face like a disease.

Trent looked at him a flash of sympathy holding him back from the finishing blow. He watched Tex writhe on the floor for a few moments. The metal arm jerked and sparked erratically. Cranston finally stilled and he looked up at Trent. "You always were slow." He gasped out. "I should have just killed you myself." Tex's voice died away. He took one last shuddering breath and exhaled for the last time.

Trent dropped to his knees. A single thought escaped his lips, "It's finally over."

He looked at his dead brother and from his eye a single tear slipped down his cheek. Even though he had probably done the right thing, there was still some small shred of regret. After all, he had just killed his half-brother, and finally settled a score.

Without any struggle to survive he finally felt the full pain of his wounds. Trent had a few more things to do. He had to call Anthony and get this mess cleaned up. He stood up and had to place his good hand on the wall to hold himself up. He staggered out the room, over the dead goon and into the hall. He didn't find anymore men in the building.

Trent finally found a working phone and made the call. "Anthony, I know. Just listen. It's over. I'm at the old warehouse district. West End Street."

"Wait a minute. What do you mean it's over?" Anthony asked.

"He had me ambushed and captured. When I got here he tried to kill me. In self defense I killed Cranston." Trent explained.

Anthony was quiet. "We're coming." Anthony replied.

Trent hung up the phone and sighed. It was finally over. He was finally free, and now he could rest. His eyes were heavy. He slid to the floor as his ravaged body gave out. And for the first time in quite a while he smiled.

**This is officially the end. One thing I want to say is that the minimalism in the last couple chapters was to spare readers from over explaining. I validated Trent's animosity and grudge with Tex by using flashback. The entire story...this is if I decide to write a sequel I have slinking through my thoughts, was a build up to creating a darker, noiresc, antiheroic version of Gadget. Trent does have a moment where he thinks about the lives that Tex was going to take, this was solely him justifying his decision to kill Tex. As I said: I wanted to darken up the character. Let me know your final thoughts, thanks for reading, and have a great day!**


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